The Forgotten
by Annastesia LaFayette
Summary: It's been 15 years since Trip has been medically discharged after an accident caused severe injuries while saving his Captain and ship. Life has moved on, but not very well for him as an old friend finds him, and tries to renew their friendship. Can Jon save him? Save them all? (After the episode that shall not be named. TRIP DID NOT DIE!) *Language*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _This story takes place 15 years after the episode that shall not be named, before the founding of The Federation **TRIP DID NOT DIE!!!** (I feel very strongly about that!) As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Enjoy. *Language*_

**A/N 2:**_ I haven't put this through editing before posting so I apologize for any spelling errors that I'm sure will be, but this is eating up too much memory space before being completed._

**The Forgotten**

**Chapter 1**

It had been almost fifteen years since Commander Charles "Trip" Tucker III had been medically discharged from Starfleet after an accident caused the severe injuries to him while saving his ship, his crew mates and his Captain from intruders looking for Shran. He didn't mean for the accident to happen, he meant to hurt, or even kill the intruders with the electrical overload, but his foot slipped, causing him to touch the metal bulkhead and electrocuting himself in the process.

In that time, Enterprise had been decommissioned, a war with the Romulans broke out and ended, old friends had been promoted, gotten married, had children, and moved on with their lives. Things were going well, except...except for him. He felt like he had been discarded like yesterday's garbage.

Trip sat on the park bench staring blankly at the building as he took another swig from the bottle in his hand. A cold chill from the night air came across the back of his neck as he shivered and pulled the collar of his coat up. He handed the bottle to the man sitting next to him. "Think we'll get in tomorrow, Mikey?"

Mikey took a swig. "I don't know. Maybe. If we get there early enough, we might." He took another swig and looked at the bottle. "Last swallow. Here you have it." He handed the bottle to Trip.

"No. That's ok. You can have it."

Mikey downed the last swig and stared at the empty bottle for a moment. He stood up and threw the bottle as hard as he could in the direction of the far off building. The bottle crashed to the sidewalk, with the sound of glass shattering. "FUCK YOU STARFLEET!" Mikey yelled at the building.

"Calm down Mikey. You don't want to get arrested again do you?"

"At least in jail I'll have a bed and meal." Mikey said as he flopped himself back down onto the bench.

"Yeah...about that. A guy threw me a fiver today. I was thinking about a sandwich."

Mikey's eyes got wide. "You got five whole credits? Trip! We can get another bottle with that!"

"Mikey. You haven't eaten today, other than the donuts they pass out at the clinic. We can get a sandwich and split it."

"I got a few credits today too."

"How much did you get?"

"I don't know. Let's put it together and see what we got."

They both emptied their pockets and counted the credits they had between them. Mikey grined at Trip. "Almost ten. We can get a small bottle and a sandwich...or one big bottle."

"Small bottle and sandwich." Trip said factually.

"Maybe Gus will give us a couple sandwiches, and we can still get a big bottle, if we time it right." Mikey replied hopefully.

"Alright. Let's go see Gus before he closes the shop. Maybe we'll get lucky."

When Trip was discharged, he went home to his parents. That lasted a few months when he couldn't take his mother doting over him any more or listen to his father's bitching about the poor treatment Starfleet was showing towards his son. So one day, Trip packed a duffle bag and simply left.

He wandered around from place to place, calling his parents every day, then once a week, once a month, then one day the calls simply stopped. He soon ran out of money and continued to wander, landing wherever he ended up. Hustling odd jobs, begging on the street corners, sometimes stealing just to survive.

He had met Mikey about five years ago at another clinic in Texas and the pair had been roaming together ever since, when one day they somehow landed back in San Francisco. Mikey was younger than Trip and he could tell right away that Mikey was fresh to the streets. Trip thought of him as a kid brother, looking out for him and protecting him as much as he could. He was in the same boat as Trip, medically discharged after suffering from a nervous breakdown during the war, causing him to have nightmares and psychotic episodes.

They both stayed at one of the homeless camps that most ex-Starfleet assembled, all of which had their own stories of how they ended up on the streets and all of them had turned bitter towards Starfleet for it.

Mikey's story was simple, his psychotic breaks were too much for his family to handle, and when his time in the psychiatric ward was up, he had nowhere to go. He bumped into Trip in Texas at the medical clinic that served ex-Starfleet personnel, and the two hit it off. Trip took him back to the camp, at least there he would be somewhat out of the elements as the gypsy camp seemed to always find a place with some sort of roofing...even if it was under a bridge.

All the camps were the same no matter where they went. The camp was it's own community, looking out for one another and sharing what they could when they could, but that didn't mean it was a hundred percent safe. There were fights, theft, extortion...and other things worse. But Trip looked out for Mikey, protecting him from those things, even if it meant he had to take the lumps for it.

Gus was one of the good guys. He worked in the store that Trip and Mikey bought their liquor from, and if the boss wasn't around, he'd slip them a few sandwiches and sometimes credits out of his own pocket. The boss, Mr. McGee, didn't like having "riff-raft" in his store and would usually refuse to allow them in, even if they had money, so Trip and Mikey learned to time it just right to go to the store during the last half hour after the boss left for the day.

Today they got lucky. They got another big bottle, Gus gave each of them two sandwiches and some chips and threw five credits each. "Ten credits Gus? Naw. That's too much. We can't." Trip said. It wasn't that he was too proud to accept the help, he just thought of Gus as a friend and didn't want to take advantage.

"Don't sweat it brother, today's payday. Besides, you guys did help me clean up and take out the trash a few nights ago so I could leave early and take my girl out. I owe you for that."

"You sure? I mean we don't want to put you in a bind."

"Yeah Trip, I'm sure. Go ahead."

"Thanks. Means a lot to us. Thanks."

Mikey nudged at Trip. "Maybe another bottle...one for later?"

"No Mikey. We need to keep this money. Maybe get a good breakfast in the morning."

"We'll get donuts at the clinic, that's breakfast."

"Mikey...I said no. This bottle is good for tonight. Thank Gus for the food and cash and let's get going."

"Alright. Thanks Gus. Really appreciate it."

"Anytime kid. See you guys later."

They found a place in the park where they could eat, not wanting to take the food back to the camp with them for fear that someone might try to steal it from them. As they ate, they decided to cue up in line for the clinic and sleep there, hoping that they'd get a good spot where they might actually get in come morning.

As they got to the clinic they saw that others had the same idea and the line was already long. They took their place at the back of the line and sat on the sidewalk. Trip rubbed at the place where his prosthetic arm met his actual arm as he looked at the line and calculated the number of people and their place. Most likely, only one of them would get in. If that happened, Trip silently decided that it would be Mikey to get in. Getting Mikey's medication was more important and his arm could wait.

They spent the night secretly sipping from their bottle and sleeping until it was morning, being greeted with the stale donuts and barely warm coffee, that had been brewed hours prior, that the clinic passed out every morning to those in line as the people slowly shuffled forward.

XXX

Admiral Archer was in the back seat of his surface transport looking at the PADD, going over the notes for his morning meeting. He took a sip of his hot coffee, jerking himself away from it. He looked over at his assistant. "Beth, how many times do I need to tell you not to make my coffee so hot?"

"I'm sorry sir. You have a tendency to let it sit for a while. I was hoping it would cool enough before you took a drink."

"That's ok. And one of these days, you'll make it just right and I'll let it sit for it to get too cold, then bitch about that too...won't I?" Jon smiled at her.

"I'm sure that's exactly what will happen, Admiral. Would you like to go over the notes of next months budgeting?"

"Yeah...I guess. Maybe there's some fat somewhere I could trim off. We need to get those new ships out of the yard and into service. The faster we get that done, the faster it will free up space in the yards to start the next round of production."

His driver had been detoured, because of construction, down a street that wasn't his usual route. He looked out of the window as they past a building and looked at the ragged people in the line. "Too bad we can't do something for them." He muttered. Suddenly Jon bolted up in his seat. "Driver! Stop the car!"

The driver glanced over his shoulder. "Admiral?"

"Stop! I said stop! Pull over now!"

The driver pulled the car to the curb and began slowing to a stop. Before the car fully stopped, Jon had the door opened and was running out as his personal security hollered at him as he went after Jon. "Admiral! What are you doing? Admiral! Wait!"

Jon ran along the line, looking at the faces as he past. He came to a sudden stop in front of a tall blonde haired man. The man's hair was scraggly and he had an unkempt beard, but there was no mistake, the scruffy man in front of him was his old friend. "Trip? My God Trip! What happened to you?"

Trip looked at him and hurmphed, then faced back to the front of the line. Jon looked him up and down. "Trip. It's me. It's Jon."

Trip turned and looked angerly at him. "I know who you are _Admiral_ Archer. What the hell you doing here with us dregs? Slumming it?"

Jon's security man pulled at his arm. "Admiral, we need to go. Your meeting, sir."

Jon jerked his arm away. "Trip? Why are you here? Where have you been? I've looked everywhere for you. What happened to you?"

Trip's anger was growing. "What happened to me? _This_ happened. And _this_!" He held up his prosthetic arm and gestured to the scars on his face. "Now why don't you just get the hell out of here and go on to your little meeting..._Admiral_."

"No Trip, not until I have a chance to talk to you. Come on, let me get you some breakfast, you can come back later if you need to."

"No I can't! I need to keep my place in line! Just get out of here will you? Oh great! Thanks a lot!" Trip looked towards the front of the line and saw two of the security heading his way. He glanced at Mikey and quietly said. "This has nothing to do with you, keep your mouth shut and stay in line."

Mikey turned and pretend that he didn't know Trip as he shuffled away from him.

"Trip? What's going on? What's wrong?" Jon asked.

"You just got me kicked out of line. That's what's wrong. Get the fuck out of here."

Jon turned and hurried to the security. After speaking with them, the two turned around and went back to their posts by the front door. Jon went back to Trip and pulled a business card from his pocket handing it to Trip. "This is where I'm staying. If you need anything, or just to talk, come see me. Come see me Trip."

Trip snatched the card from him and shoved it into his pocket. "Don't hold your breath. Will you just go now, please?"

"Alright. I'm going, but please come see me." Jon gave him a squeeze on the shoulder then left with a heavy heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Trip sat and watched as Mikey was being cuffed and shoved into the back of a police car. Mikey had another psychotic episode while they were heading back to the camp for the night. Trip had suggested that they cut through an alley, that left them directly in front of Starfleet HQ.

Mikey's anger got the better of him and he went on a rampage, screaming about Romulans and cussing at the building, at Starfleet. Trip tried to calm him down and get them out of there, but Mikey had picked up a rock, throwing it at the window, shattering it. The window was the type that it didn't actually break out, and the shattered glass was contained between a coating of a protective poly-seal, but still the damage was done.

Starfleet security held Mikey until the local police arrived and there wasn't anything Trip could do to keep him from being arrested. Trip didn't have the heart to go back to the camp, so he walked, and walked, and walked more.

Trip looked up and found himself in front of a posh hotel, trying to remember a time that he could walk into a place like that and be greeted with warm welcomes and smiles. That was another lifetime ago, and sometimes he wondered if he had just simply imagined that life.

He shoved his hand into his pocket to keep the cold away when he felt the card. He pulled it out, looking at it, and realized this was the same hotel that was on the card Jon had given him. _What the hell? Why not?_ He thought as he walked through the doors.

As he started through the lobby, he was stopped by a security guard. "Sir, you can't come in here. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"I'm looking for Admiral Archer. He said to come see him."

"The Admiral is much too busy for the likes of _you_. Leave or we'll call the police."

"Look, I know Jon Archer. He's...or he was a friend. He told me to come see him. Just call him and tell him that Trip is here."

"I'm not going to bother the Admiral for street trash. Last chance to leave."

"Street trash! I'll have you know I served on Enterprise and helped save your sorry ass from the Xindi, Klingons and a shitload of other hostiles you don't even know about!"

"Uh-huh sure you did, and I'm a little princess ballerina. Out now!"

Jon had exited the lift and started to walk across the lobby when he heard a commotion involving one of the security guards. He didn't bother to look until he heard a familiar voice. He rushed over to the two men. "Ok princess ballerina. He _is_ a friend and I _did_ ask him to come see me."

The guard blinked at Jon. "Admiral? Are you sure?" He wasn't too sure what to make of it.

"Yeah. I'm sure. Come on Trip, let's go up to my room." Jon led him to the lift leaving behind a stunned security guard.

Once they got to Jon's room, Jon made a quick call. "Beth. Call Carol and tell her something important came up and I can't make it tonight. (There was a pause) Yeah I know. Send her some roses and tell her we'll go another night. (Another pause) Ok. See if you can't get tickets for that. Hopefully that will smooth things over with her. Oh! Reschedule my meeting in the morning. I don't know how long this will take, but it's very important to me. I'll call you tomorrow and we'll play it by ear. Ok. Good night."

Trip cocked a brow at Jon. "Beth? Carol?"

"Beth is my assistant. Carol is...a friend."

"Oh...that kind of friend. Did I cause you to break a date? I'll just go."

"No you won't! I can always go out with Carol another night. Besides, I'm really not the symphony kind of guy and being here with you right now is too important. Please sit down and let's talk."

Trip looked around the room and then down at himself. "I don't think I should sit on any of the furniture. Might get it dirty and smelly."

Jon could smell the stale alcohol on Trip, as well as the body odor that made it obvious he hadn't bathed in a while, and he had to admit his clothes were a little dirty. "Don't worry about it Trip. Please sit."

"No. That's ok. I know you're just being polite. I really don't know what I'm doing here. Maybe it's best I leave."

"You're here because you need a friend. Trip, I never stopped being your friend. Why didn't you reach out to me? Why did you let things get this bad for you? Why did you disappear?"

Trip shot him an angry look. "I _did_ reach out to you. I tried calling you but you didn't return my messages."

"What messages? When? I never got any messages from you."

"When you got transferred to the Saratoga. I tried to call you, but you never responded."

"Shit Trip! The Saratoga was during the war! We were out there pretty far. Did you call through Starfleet channels?"

"My Starfleet clearance was cancelled when I was discharged. I had to use civilian channels."

Jon rolled his head up. "Oh God Trip. The Romulans took out the communication buoys. The only thing we were getting through was from Starfleet, and that was relayed through other ships. Shit! Shit! Shit! I can't believe all these years you thought I ignored you. No wonder you hate me right now. Shit! Trip, as soon as we got back to Earth, the first thing I did was call your parents, but they said that you left and they hadn't heard from you in over two years. They had no clue where you were and worried to death! I have the entire Enterprise crew looking for you and they all know to contact me if they get any intel on you. I found out you was in Wyoming, but by the time I got there, you was gone. Then I heard Utah, but the same thing happened. I even went to Florida to see if you might have went back there, but none of your cousins had heard from you. When was the last time you called home?"

Trip shrugged. "Been a while."

"Trip...there's the comm. Call home." Jon pointed to the comm system.

"No. Not now. I'm not up for it."

"Trip. You're mother is worried about you. Call her. That's an order Commander."

Trip's bitterness towards Starfleet took over. "Hey! Fuck you. You can't order me around any more _Admiral._ I don't belong to Starfleet any more. Fuck Starfleet and fuck you!"

Trip started to leave and Jon grabbed him by the arm. Trip let out a yell. "Ah! Fuck! Watch it! That hurts!"

Jon jerked his hand back. "Trip. I'm sorry. I didnt mean to hurt you. I just don't want you to leave. I want to talk to you. Ok. You don't need to call your mom right now if you don't want to, but the comm is available whenever you're ready. Please don't go. Please stay. Are you hungry? I can have something sent up. You can take a shower and stay the night if you want."

"Humph. Take a shower. Then what? Put these filthy clothes back on? Stay the night? Then hit the streets again in the morning? Naw. I should just go now, be better that way."

"Trip. Why did you come here? Why did you walk into that lobby?"

"I don't know. Mikey got arrested tonight and I just started walking. I didn't even know where I was walking to and ended up in front of this hotel. Hell, I didn't even know it was the same hotel that you were staying in til I pulled that card out of my pocket."

"Mikey?"

"Yeah. That kid I was in line with this morning."

"Oh. What did he get arrested for?"

"Busted the window at HQ. Not so bad though, he'll get a bed and a hot meal tonight at minimum. If he's lucky, they'll pull his report and see he's got problems and send him to the hospital for a couple weeks. Get a month worth of his meds before they release him."

"What kind of problems does Mikey have?"

"Psyciological. War did it to him. Saw and did things a kid his age shouldn't. Fucked him up."

"Why isn't he on medication now?"

"Ran out two months ago. Been going to the clinic to get more, but can't always get in. He got in three weeks ago, but they didn't have any of his meds so they told him to come back later. Been trying everyday since."

"What do you mean you couldn't get in? Why can't you get in?"

Trip looked at Jon in disbelief. "You know...for someone that's part of the system, you have no clue what's going on do you?"

"Apparently not. Tell me about it. Enlighten me."

"They only take so many people. It's supposed to be fifty a day, but most days, like today, it's less. Today they only took thirty. The rest of us were told to try again tomorrow. Hell. We can't always try again tomorrow. Mornings are the best time to beg some credits, when people still have some in their pockets and not pissed off at their jobs."

"Fifty a day? That's _bullshit_! Who would put such a low number of patients to be seen and treated?"

Trip shrugged. "Some asshole bureaucrat cutting budgets, calling it "trimming fat" I guess. Probably to line their own pockets."

Jon suddenly had a sinking feeling. Was this one of the budgets that _he_ had cut? He made a vowel that he would look into it and make some serious changes. "Trip. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're going through this. But I can help you, if you'll let me. I can get you off the streets and get you whatever medical care you need."

"Yeah? What about Mikey? You gonna get him off the streets? Get him medical care? What about the rest of those people in line? Hmm? And what about the people that skipped the line today to beg some spare credits? What you gonna do for them? Hmm?"

"I don't know Trip. All I can do right now is start with one and work for the rest."

"Then forget me. Start with Mikey."

"This guy is important to you isn't he?"

Trip shrugged "He's my kid brother."

"Kid brother? Trip...after your sister..."

"Not my brother in blood, but he's still my brother. If I hadn't been looking out for him, well...hate to think of where he might be now."

"I get it. Well we know where he is now. Let me make a call and maybe I can get him out of jail."

"No. Don't do that. At least there, he's off the streets tonight. As bad as his episode was, he's probably already on his way to the psychiatric hospital. Best place for him right now."

"Alright. I'll leave that go for the moment. Right now, why don't you hit the shower, I'll call the concierge and have them send some clothes up for you and a hot meal. You'll stay here tonight and in the morning we'll brainstorm like old times to think of ways to help you, Mikey and the rest of them. Ok?" Jon reached out and clasped his hand on Trip's arm. Trip jerked his arm back in pain.

"Trip? What's going on with your arm? Why does it hurt?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Trip, let me take a look at it."

"No. I said it's nothing."

"Trip. Take your coat off and let me see it. Please."

Trip let out a huff and took his coat off then rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. Jon could see the area around the prosthetic was chafed, red and slighty swollen. "Oh geez. Trip, take off your prosthetic."

"Jon, you really don't want to see that."

"Yes I do! Take it off."

Trip sighed and removed his prosthetic arm. The nub underneath was rubbed raw and the gauze used to cushion was dirty and blotched with a mix of dried and fresh blood. Jon gingerly removed the gauze and saw how bad it really was. "Oh my God Trip. We need to get this cleaned up before it gets infected. How did this happen?"

"Prosthetic don't fit right. It rubs the skin and does this."

"Why don't you have a prosthetic that fits properly?"

"On the waiting list for one."

"How long have you been on the waiting list?"

"Ten years. Let you know when my name comes up."

"You mean they let you suffer like this for ten years!? How could a reasonable doctor let this go on for so long? Aren't they concerned about infection? Pain? How the hell does this happen? Why didn't you go to Starfleet medical? This happened while you were still an officer. They should be taking care of this."

"The one's injured in the war, that don't need long term or lifetime treatment get priority. Captains and above, regardless of their needs gets the highest priority. The rest of us get sent to the clinic. Starfleet medical don't want to deal with someone for years or the rest of their lives. They don't want to deal with psychological issues either. Getting an infection isn't so bad. I might not get into the clinic, but the hospital has to take me if it's infected. If I'm lucky, they'll keep me a day or two and I can get a couple meals out of them. If I'm real lucky, somebody will forget to lock the supply closet and I can snag a couple of blankets. If I'm really, really lucky, I'll get to leave with some good pain meds and get nice buzz for a few days."

"I'm calling a doctor to come take a look at that. You get a shower. No argument."

"Jon-"

Jon put up a hand. "I've made up my mind, and you know that once I've made up my mind, there's no changing it. Now go get a shower while I call a doctor."

"Yes, Cap'n." Trip said sarcastically as he headed for the bathroom.

XXX

When Trip got out of the shower, he had a towel wrapped around his waist as Jon handed him some clothes. Jon was shocked at the sight of Trip, who had grown so thin, his rib and hip bones showed through, the scars and bruises of his harsh street life mapped out on him.

The doctor looked at his arm, giving him some salve to help heal and relieve the raw skin, wrapping it in fresh gauze and gave him a high dosage of antibiotic for the infection. There wasn't anything he could do about a better fitting prosthetic at the moment. With all the red tape to get approval for a new one, meant that Trip would be on yet another waiting list. Not even the Admiral's weight being thrown around could cut through the red tape. They were back to square one on that front, it made Jon angry at the foolishness of such bureaucracy and he got a slight understanding of Trip's bitterness.

As they ate the meal Jon had sent up to the room, he tried to make small talk with Trip to get some sort of understanding of what he'd been through in his fifteen years. "So, while I have been searching for you, I've seen you been arrested a few times, nothing real serious, want to tell me about it?"

"Mostly public drunkenness or vagrancy. Sometimes on purpose."

"You got yourself arrested on purpose? Why?"

Trip shrugged. "Get out of the cold or rain for the night. Get a bed and hot meal."

"The theft charge in Wisconsin?"

"Got caught shoplifting. I had just landed there and didn't know the good places to beg spare credits yet. I was trying to snag some bread and lunchmeat. Usually don't get caught. Most times if I do, they just take it back from me and throw me out the store, but this store decided to call the cops on me. Oh well. Worst part was I was only put in a holding cell for a couple hours then cut loose. Didn't even get so much as a snack out of it. Shoulda punched the cop. At least then they woulda held me a few days."

"And the public urination charge?" Jon chuckled.

"Hey. When you gotta piss, you gotta piss."

"Yeah. I guess so, but on the side of a police station?" Jon's laughter grew.

Trip rolled his eyes. "I was cutting through an alley. I didn't know it was a police station. Just got a little slap on the wrist for it. No big deal."

Trip changed the subject. "You still talk to any of the old crew?"

"Yeah. Travis got married. Got a kid now."

"Really? He married that reporter girl? What was her name?"

"Gannet. No. His wife, Dianne is a science officer. They met while they were both on shore leave on Risa. They did the long distance thing for a while, then she got transferred to his ship and things really took off from there. Been married almost seven years now."

"That's great. How's Hoshi doing?"

"So-so. You heard what happened with Malcolm didn't you?"

"Yeah. I heard about the Yorktown through news feeds. I think that's when I stopped watching the feeds."

"Yeah. A week before the wedding. Hoshi never really got over it."

Captain Reed and Commander Sato were to be married in a traditional spring wedding, but the week before the wedding day, tragedy struck. Captain Reed's ship, Yorktown, was destroyed by Romulans with no survivors. Commander Sato fell into such a deep depression, she resigned her commission, returning home to her parents in Japan.

"Phlox? He still with Starfleet?"

"No. He went back to Denobula. Had a couple more kids since then." There was a long silence for a moment. "Aren't you going to ask about her?"

"Nope."

"Trip, she misses you. She's just as worried, more worried than the rest of us."

"Yeah. Sure she is. I highly doubt she gives a damn. Got married by now I'm sure."

"No. She hasn't. She really does miss you. She's searched for you as hard as I have, but you're a very difficult man to track down when you want to be."

"Guess that's one thing Starfleet taught well. So what's up with this Carol? Is it serious?"

Jon knew that Trip was trying to drop the subject, so he let it go. "We've been seeing each other a little over a year. Things are moving along."

"How y'all meet?"

"At a cocktail party. Her dad is a retired Admiral that still holds some weight in Starfleet, so he still gets invited to some of the parties. Anyways, she was with him and we started talking and kind of hit it off. Been going from there."

"She Starfleet too?"

"No. Fashion designer. Suits, dresses, magazines, catwalk...you know.

"Yeah. Knowing you, bet she's drop-dead gorgeous too. Wedding in the future?"

"I don't think we're quite at that point just yet." Jon chuckled.

After they ate, Jon watched as Trip moved about the room, peeking in drawers and cabinets. "Liquor cabinet is over there. Help yourself."

Trip rushed over to the cabinet Jon had pointed to and picked up a bottle. He opened it and started to bring it to his mouth, suddenly remembering his manners, he got a glass and filled it with the amber liquid. "Been a long time since I drank from a glass. You always did have good booze. Thanks." He smiled as he took a long drink.

"You can have that bottle if you want. I got plenty more."

"Yeah? You sure you don't mind? This is some pretty good stuff here. Not that gut-rot I usually have."

"I'm sure Trip. Go ahead."

Trip thought about it a moment and carefully poured what was left in the glass back into the bottle, tightening the cap as he slipped it in his duffle bag. "Gonna have to put this in the hole and save it for Mikey when he comes home."

"The hole?"

"Yeah. There's a tree in the Gate Park that has a hole in it. Nobody knows about it except for me and Mikey. Anytime one of us gets something we want to save for later, we put it in the hole. That way it won't get stolen at camp. If they took him to the hospital, be a couple weeks or more before he comes home. Hope I can leave it alone that long."

"When Mikey gets out of the hospital, bring him by for drinks. I'd really like to meet him."

"Yeah. I guess."

XXX

Jon woke in the middle of the night to the sound of noises coming from the guest room. He poked his head in and could see Trip tossing and mumbling loudly in his sleep. It was obvious he was having a nightmare.

"Trip?" Jon reached down and touched his shoulder to wake him, only to stumble back from the hard blow to his jaw.

Trip bolted up yelling. "Get away from me! Leave me alone!" It was dark and Trip couldn't see as he swung wildly.

"Hey. Hey. Trip. It's me. It's Jon. You're safe. It's ok." Jon's quiet, calm voice tried to reassure him.

"Ca-Cap'n?" Trip's mind was in a fog of sleep and his voice thick. "Oh God Cap'n. I had the worst dream. I was homeless, on the streets, and...and there was this guy...this guy." The fog was lifting as reality started to set in. "It's not a dream. Is it?"

Jon turned the lights up to a soft glow as he sat on the bed next to Trip. "No, it isn't. I'm sorry. I wish it were a dream."

"Sorry I decked you, you startled me. You ok?"

"I've had worse. I've woken you up from bad dreams before and you've never done that. Want to tell me about it?"

"In the camps...usually when you get woke like that, it's because someone's trying to steal from you...or do something worse."

"Worse? Like what?"

Trip looked up and gave Jon a cold stare. "What do you think?"

"Oh God Trip. Did somebody...hurt you in that camp?"

Trip looked down at the floor. "More than just that camp. It happens at all of them. Happens to everybody at least once. First time was when I was fresh to the streets. I was in Indiana and some guys jumped me, held me down and called it my initiation."

"Why don't you fight back? Try to stop them?"

"I used to. It's worse when you fight back. Best thing is to just close your eyes and wait for it to be over. Not so bad when you get used to it. If you don't fight back, you might get lucky and they'll throw a couple credits or some food...if you're lucky."

"Trip. You mean...you _willingly_ do that for money or food?" Jon was horrified at that thought.

"No. Not willingly." Trip looked up at Jon. "The only time I do it willingly is so they'll leave Mikey alone. I'll take his place for him. I'll be damned if Mikey gets touched like that."

"Oh God Trip." Jon wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. Trip let out the sobs of pain, fear and anger he had been holding back for years in a hard wave.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Jon woke to find that Trip had gone. He left a note behind on the table: _Thanks for the meal, shower, bed and booze. See you around. Trip._ Jon's heart shattered as he read the note.

Jon went to the clinic, looking at the people in line, hoping to find Trip. When he didn't see him in the line, he went inside to ask if he had checked in.

As he walked into the clinic, he was shocked at what he saw. Dozens of people, some sitting on the dirty floor as there wasn't enough chairs. Flickering lights, dingy walls with peeling paint, limited equipment that was out of date and some that didn't even work, and a handful of staff who, by their actions, didn't really care about the job or the people waiting to be seen.

He went to the desk and waited twenty minutes, trying and failing to get someone's attention. When he did finally get the attention of one of the staff, he asked about Trip, only to be given a sneer and told to wait while they checked for his records.

Jon waited another forty-five minutes for them to find Trip's records only to be told that he hadn't been seen for over three months. Jon questioned the records since he knew for a fact that Trip had been in the line the day before. The woman at the desk rudely told him that people get in line for the coffee and donuts then leave once they've been fed.

While Jon had waited for them to find Trip's records, he had helped himself to a cup of their disgusting coffee, only to throw it out after the first sip. Acknowledging all the people still outside in line, he didn't buy the story of people leaving after the coffee and donuts. They weren't there for a free breakfast, they were there for medical treatment that they wasn't going to get. Defeated, Jon left and made a mental note to have this clinic checked into and inspected.

Jon went to Golden Gate Park hoping to spot Trip there, but came up empty. He went to the psychiatric hospital, thinking that maybe he went to see Mikey. He didn't know Mikey's last name, but gave them a description. The very friendly woman there knew the patient he was talking about and confirmed that the police had brought Mister DeLaney in the night before.

Unfortunately, Mikey had been so violent that he was placed under sedation and roomed on the lock-down floor, which meant that he wasn't allowed visitors. Jon left her his card, gave Trip's name and description with instructions that if Trip should show up, to tell him that "Cap'n" was looking for him.

Jon spent the rest of the morning making calls checking into the hospitals, if Trip might have been injured or sick. He also checked with the police to see if he may have been arrested. All ended with no results.

Jon had also made other calls to some people who might be able to help him with getting better medical care for those who need it. He checked into the budget cuts, relieved that it wasn't his signature that made the cuts, but still angry that someone felt that these people didn't need or deserve proper treatment.

Jon didn't know where this tree with the hole in it was, so he had the park staked out, hoping that Trip might show. He spent several days going to the clinic, calling the hospitals and police and finding some of the camps, all hoping to find Trip.

The camps were difficult to navigate. The people there didn't trust strangers, especially clean and well dressed strangers, and most wouldn't talk to him let alone look at him. The few that did talk to him only did so to beg credits. Jon didn't mind giving them some, if it meant that it held their attention long enough to ask about Trip. All of which responded that they never heard of him or seen anyone of his description. Jon was pretty sure that some of them may not have been honest with their answer, but he wasn't going to call them on it. He simply said thank you and asked that if they should see him to tell him "Cap'n" is looking for him.

Five days had passed and Trip was once again in the wind. Jon was starting to lose hope. He wondered if Trip's sudden departure was because he was embarrassed admitting to Jon that he had been repeatedly assaulted, or that he was willing to take the assaults to keep Mikey safe. Even though it angered Jon that his friend had been harmed in such a way, he didn't hold any ill feelings towards Trip about it, or about protecting the kid. He knew Trip couldn't help being assaulted and wished he had told him that he didn't need to feel embarrassed about it.

One of the calls he made earlier in the week was to some old friends and he smiled as he met his friends at the transport terminal. "Phlox! Liz! So good to see you both again. How is Feezal?"

Phlox gave him his famous huge smile. "Ah. She is doing very well. She says to tell you hello."

"Liz. How are you? And how is my little namesake doing?" He asked as he gave Liz a hug.

"Little Jonathan is doing quite well, his spots are starting to darken. He's growing up so fast! He'll be ten in a few months you know. He's asked if his uncle Jon will be coming to Denobula for his birthday party."

"I already have the vacation time and transport scheduled, but...ah...when you get back home, tell him I can't get the time off." Jon gave them a wink.

"Ah! Surprise the little fellow hmm?" Phlox grinned.

"Yeah. Something like that." Jon smiled.

Liz looked at him concerned. "Have you found him?"

"Not yet. I'm still looking. Mikey is still in the hospital. He won't leave Frisco without Mikey, so there's that at least. The hospital is supposed to call me when Mikey can have visitors. Phlox, while you're here, I'd like to see if you can get in to do an evaluation on Mikey."

"I'll try Admiral, but not being a practicing psychologist, they might not allow it."

"Well, at least try. Shall we head over now?"

"Yes sir. I am _very_ anxious to see this place you told us about." Liz said sternly.

XXX

They walked into the clinic, Phlox and Liz's jaws dropped. The rude woman at the desk looked up and immediately recognized Jon, rolling her eyes she muttered to herself. "Him again. And he brought friends. Oh goodie."

Before they could reach the desk a man came out of one of the rooms, yelling and banging his fist on the desk.

"I been in this damned line everyday for the last three months! All I want is my medicine! Last month you said you was out and come back next week! I been coming back and can't get in! Now you tell me you STILL don't have my medicine and come back next fucking month? Get my goddamn medicine NOW! This how Starfleet takes care of their people? Fuck Starfleet! Fuck you all!"

Another man pushed past them without looking, rushing to the screaming man grabbing him. "Corey! Stop that! Calm down, don't get yourself banned or arrested. Just calm down. We'll get your meds somehow."

"Trip! I'm gonna have a heart attack before that happens! I need those meds for my heart."

"I know Cor. We'll go to the hospital and get them there if we have to."

"Yeah. The hospital, where I don't have the credits to pay. Fuck you Starfleet. Don't give a shit 'bout killing somebody. And fuck you too Admiral, whoever you are." Corey glared at Jon, who was wearing his uniform, as he stormed out of the clinic.

Trip turned around and looked at the three in front of him. "Jon? Phlox? Liz? What y'all doing here?"

"Phlox and Liz have an appointment with the administrator." Jon explained. He glared at the rude woman behind the desk as she gulped. "Me? I've been stopping by everyday looking for you. Didn't _she_ tell you?" He pointed to the woman.

Trip looked at her then back at Jon. "No. She didn't. I been away and got back last night."

Down the hall a voice yelled. "Mister Tucker? Mister C. Tucker."

Trip looked back. "That's me. Well, my turn. Be here when I get done?"

"Of course Trip." Jon smiled at him.

Phlox cleared his throat, scowling. "Actually Admiral, you'll go in with Mister Tucker. We _all_ will. I want a first hand look at exactly what kind of medical care these patients are being given."

As they got to the door, the young doctor stopped them. "I'm sorry, only the patient is allowed in the room. Policy."

"I'm Doctor Phlox. Do you know why I'm here?" Phlox looked at him coldly.

"_You're_ Doctor Phlox? I'm sorry Doctor, I didn't know, of course you may observe, but uh..." The doctor looked at the rest of them.

Jon gave him a hard look. "This is _Doctor_ Liz Phlox. I'm _Admiral_ Jonathan Archer. We'll be observing as well. Understand?"

"Yes Admiral. Of course. Please, come in. I'm Doctor Wong. Mister Tucker, what brings you in today?"

"Same thing that brought me in last time, doc."

"Oh? And what was that? I just started here last month."

"My damned arm!" Trip yelled in frustration.

"Trip. Control yourself." Jon shot at him.

"Sorry sir. You're right. Doc, this prosthetic doesn't fit right. It hurts."

The doctor had his back to Trip looking at his records on the PADD and through the cabinets, and at instruments, everywhere but at Trip as he spoke. "You were fitted when you received the prosthetic. If it wasn't comfortable, why didn't you say anything then?"

"It was comfortable for the first year or so. It's not now."

The doctor continued to look in the cabinets and drawers. "Shouldn't have been that much change in such a short amout of time. You just need more time to adjust to it, that's all. You just want some pain medicine to sell or get high? You won't get any."

"I don't need to come _here_ to get high. Will you just look at my arm?"

The doctor sighed and turned towards Trip. "Fine. Take off your coat."

Trip took off his coat and the doctor gave him a quick once over. "A little red, but not that bad. You'll be fine. You can go now. I have other patients to see."

Jon looked at the doctor. "It's been fifteen years and he's lost a lot of weight since then. Don't you want to see what's going on _under_ the prosthetic?"

Wong blinked at Jon. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that you were a medical doctor."

Liz held a slight anger in her voice. "He's not, but we are. Trip, let's take a look under your prosthetic."

Trip removed his prosthetic as Phlox and Liz gasped. "Good God Trip! Why hasn't this been treated sooner?"

Trip looked up at Jon, who sighed. "That's why I called you. Drastic changes need to be made now. I had my personal doctor check out Trip earlier this week. He gave Trip some salve and antibiotics, but that was all he could do. Trip? You been taking the antibiotics?"

"Yeah. I been taking them. Make me a little sick if my stomach's empty though."

"Antibiotics are to be taken with food, you know this Mister Tucker. How many times have I told you that on the Enterprise?" Phlox scolded.

Trip looked at Phlox and laid down the facts to him. "Kinda hard to eat four times a day when you're on the streets doc. Lucky to eat four times a week."

Liz looked at her husband. "Phlox."

He put his hand up to her. "I already know what you're thinking my dear and I agree. Mister Tucker, after our meeting with the administrator, you're coming back to Denobula with me and Liz. We'll get this taken care of for you."

Trip shifted. "How long will that take?"

"Two, three weeks."

"No. I can't. Mikey will be out of the hospital before then. I have to be there when he gets out."

Jon gave Trip a caring look. "Don't worry about Mikey. I already have that covered. I'll take care of him until you get back, Trip. Right now, you need to take care of yourself."

"But Jon, Mikey doesn't know you. He won't trust you. I taught him not to trust people he don't know, the only person he can trust is me. Plus you're Starfleet. He hates Starfleet."

"Write him a note, one that he'll know for sure came from you. Let him know I'm one of the good guys and that he can trust me." Jon took Trip's good hand into his. "As a friend, time to take care of yourself, that's an order." He smiled at Trip.

Trip thought for a moment and a thin smile came on his lips. "Aye Cap'n."

XXX

While Phlox and Liz had their appointment, Jon took Trip to a restaurant across the street. "You said you've been away. Where did you go? I've been looking everywhere for you."

"After I left the hotel, I went to the transport station to beg some credits. Great place to do that and even find some that's been dropped. Anyways, this guy asked me if I knew anything about repairs and if I was any good with my hands. Kinda laughed at that and told him I knew a thing or two and good with at least one hand. Turns out he's head manager at one of the dock yards and was having problems with one of his loading machines. He let me stay in a back room at the yard while I fixed it for him. Even paid me 200 credits! Can you believe it? Two hundred! That's the most money I've had in a long time! Kinda scared to go back to the camp with it, might get stolen and kinda scared to put it in the hole, someone might find it, so I spent the night in the transport terminal."

"I could hold on to it for you, if you want. Maybe put it in an intrest account?"

"Well...maybe hold on to it. Wouldn't do no good to open an account for two hundred credits. Just be gone in a few months."

"Sure. No problem Trip. I'll hold on to it for you. Give you an excuse to come see me and check in...right?"

"Ah ha! I knew it! You set that up didn't you?" Trip laughed.

Jon smiled at him. "It's good to hear you laughing again, Trip."

He got a little quiet. "Feels good to laugh again. Been a while since I've had a reason to laugh."

"Well, hopefully you'll have more reasons to laugh soon. Hopefully after Phlox and Liz get rolling, things might get better for you. All of you."

"Hey. What's up with Phlox and Liz anyway? Liz Phlox? I thought Phlox aleady had three wives."

Jon looked at Trip stunned. "You do know they were having an affair while on Enterprise...right?"

"Well...I suspected, but didn't really know for sure."

"Well, they were and Phlox's wives found out. Feezal and his second wife didn't really pay any mind to it, but his third wife threw a fit and dissolved her marriage to him. Shortly after that, Phlox and Liz got married."

"And his other two wives are cool with him marrying someone that's not Denobulan?"

"Sure. In fact, Liz and Feezal are best friends. Feezal was even there when little Jonathan was born."

"Woo! Ain't that a hoot! Liz Cuttler got a baby and named him after you? So uh, Liz gotta take on two more husbands? Maybe she's dropping a hint at you?" Trip wagged his brows at Jon.

Jon chuckled. "No, being human, they don't expect her to take on any more husbands, unless she wants to. Besides, I have Carol."

"Yeah? Get your raincheck on that date you broke?"

"In fact we have a date tomorrow night. Going to take her to a concert."

"Symphony?"

"No. _The Earth Attack_."

Trip looked at him in shock. "_Earth Attack_! You know that's heavy metal don't you?"

"I like metal. Know all the _Attack's_ songs. What's your point?"

"Shit Jon. All these years and you still surprise me."

The conversation took a more serious tone as Jon felt the need to know. "Speaking of being surprised, you're little comment about getting high?"

"You don't really want to know about that."

"Yes I do Trip. How bad is it?"

"It's not like that any more. Look, early on, I spent a few years up in Canada. Most of that time I was kinda strung out, but I'm better now. I admit, I still like to get a good buzz now and then, it feels good to forget this shity life for a few hours, but it's not like it used to be."

"What kind of drugs?" Jon asked sternly.

"Now? Just the green queen. Back then? Whatever was put in front of me. I don't do that kind of stuff any more. Not the hard stuff. Got myself away from the hard stuff, I'm better now."

"Shit Trip. This is all my fault. None of this would have happened if I hadn't helped Shran. You'd still have your arm, been a Captain...hell, maybe Admiral by now. Married, kids...all of that if I had just stayed on course and told Shran no."

"And Shran's daughter mighta been killed! Jon, you couldn't let that baby be hurt. I know this. Look, at one time, yes I blamed you. I hated you. I even believed that you turned your back on me, but I grew out of that. I know you did the right thing helping Shran and his little girl. True, up until this week I still thought that you tossed me to the side, but I did stop hating you. No. My hate is for Starfleet and the bureaucrats that make these slashes at the expense of human lives. Not you."

Jon looked down. "Trip...I'm one of those bureaucrats. Look, I did some checking. My name isn't on any of the cuts to the healthcare, but my name _is_ on other cuts that now, when I look at it, I'm not very happy with myself."

Trip crinkled his brows. "What kind of cuts?"

"Salary, retirement funds, education funds, fee scales. All of which seems to be targeted to newer personnel. I looked at it pretty close. Those of us on the first deep space era...we're safe, but the one's after us...one's like Mikey, they're the one's feeling it. I didn't realize the affect it was having, but now that I'm looking at it through new eyes, I'm not proud of some of the changes I've created. I was just looking at ways to put more funds into fleet production and not thinking about the individual. Trip, I plan to resolve this, now that I know the harm I've done. I hope you can forgive me."

Trip was beginning to grow angry at Jon's admition. "You think us first out there are safe? Shit! By the time the fee scales, medications, and regulations taxes get done with me..._I owe_ Starfleet! And so do the rest of us at the camps! So is this what it's all about? You trying to help me, help Mikey? You just trying to ease your guilt?"

"No. Trip, I swear, I didn't know how hard these cuts were going to impact those that had been discharged. I'm not trying to ease my guilt. I'm trying to fix this. Trying to get things better again, the way it was before. You have to understand, the war hit Starfleet's budget hard, but that's no excuse to cut funds to basic human needs like healthcare, wages, housing all of that. Trip, we..._I _can do better. I should have looked harder to find other ways to resolve the budget, but I took the simple, easy path. I want to do better, make things right, but I need help with that. Can you help me?"

Trip glared at Jon for a few moments. "I don't know. I need time to process this."

"Trip, please don't disappear on me again. I need you...please." Jon looked at him with worry, guilt and sadness.

"Look...I'll go to Denobula, let Phlox do what he can for my arm. During that time, I'll do some thinking, but right now I need some space. Thanks for the lunch and thanks for looking after Mikey while I'm away, but just give me some space for now."

"Ok Trip, fair enough. You still want me to hold that money for you?"

"No. I'll have Phlox hold it for me for now. When I get back, I'll let you know." Jon sat and watched as Trip got up and went across the street, back to the clinic to wait for Phlox and Liz as his heart shattered even more.

XXX

Liz and Phlox sat with the administrator, Doctor Grahams, as they expressed their concerns with the conditions of the clinic.

Doctor Grahams sighed. "Look, Doctors, I hear your concerns, but my hands are tied. I ask for new equipment, only to be denied as it's not in the budget. I ask for more supplies of medication, but again, it's not in the budget. I ask for repairs on the building but what do you think Starfleet tells me? Not in the budget. What do you want me to do? It's not just this clinic, it's all of the Starfleet funded clinics.

"How much does it cost to sweep and mop a floor? When was the last time you really looked at that waiting room? It's _filthy_!" Liz shot at him

"And the attitude of your staff! Do you know that you kept an Admiral...an _Admiral_ waiting for over an hour just to find _one_ patient's charts? *Hurmph.* Patient charts should be ready at the fingertips! And the awful bedside manner of your Doctor Wong! Accusing people of coming in for drugs just to get high! To their faces no less! At least when he actually _looks_ at them!" Phlox chastised.

"You both need to understand, the staff we have here are volunteers. They don't get paid. Dr. Wong is in his last year of medical school. He's just here to pad his resume to look good and get a position with Starfleet Medical...maybe even on a starship. The handful of doctors that do volunteer here only do so for that reason. They come in...and a few months later they're gone. Most times I'm lucky to have a doctor, other than myself, on staff. I will speak to Christopher about his bedside manner, but we do see a lot of people coming in here just for pain medication to abuse, although I agree, it's not his place to voice his opinion to a patient."

Phlox gave him a small smile. "Do you know that on Denobula, we don't have these kind of problems with our healthcare system? Do you want to know why?"

"Sure Doctor, tell me why." Grahams said flatly.

"On Denobula, all of our citizens are treated equally. Everyone gets the same level of care, regardless of their station in life. When a doctor graduates medical school, we are required and assigned to serve a minimum of five years in places like this as professional training. We are also required to receive our own medical care in the facilities that we serve in during that time. The bureaucrats and policy makers are also required to receive their medical care at the facilities in the areas they represent. This is to ensure that everyone is being given the same level of care, no matter who they are or their profession."

"That sounds like a good policy, but do you really think that human Earth bureaucrats would be willing to take their medical care in a place like this? Good luck with that one!"

"If _they_ were to be required to receive the same poor care that they force on those that they are supposed to be representing, and working for, they might think twice about the budget cuts they implement." Phlox shot back.

"And what about servicing only so many a day, turning away dozens of others?" Liz questioned.

"Look, I don't know why all these people chose to come here when they should be going to a Starfleet medical facility. These clinics are designed to serve only as a place for immediate care when they can't wait for an appointment at medical. It's not supposed to be for long term needs, but I guess those people just don't want to take the time to make an appointment. That's not my fault."

Liz and Phlox dropped their jaws. "Doctor, from what we've been told, Starfleet medical referrs those people here because they will only prioritize the short term patients. They dump the long term care patients onto the clinics." Phlox informed him.

"What? That can't be right. There must be some sort of misunderstanding. I'm sure Starfleet medical must tell them to come to a clinic if they can't wait for an appointment, but also tells them to set an appointment with them. They _cannot_ have been told to come here for their perminate care."

Liz scoffed. "I suggest you get out of your office more offten and start actually _talking_ to you patients."

Doctor Grahams leaned back in his chair, eyes wide in disbelief at what he had just learned. "I think you might be correct Doctor."

After the meeting, Trip, Phlox and Liz went to the psychiatric hospital. As Phlox expected, even though he held a degree in psychology, not practicing, they wouldn't allow him to evaluate Mikey.

Trip really wanted a chance to speak with Mikey before leaving for Denobula. "Can't I just see him for a minute? Look, I'm leaving in the morning and won't be back for a few weeks. I need to tell him what's going on. Just one minute, that's all I'm asking for...please."

The woman at the desk shook her head. "I'm sorry sir. Mister DeLaney is still on the lock-down floor. He is doing better, and if he continues to improve, he'll be transferred to the observation floor in a few days and can have visitors then."

"But didn't you hear me? I said I'm leaving in the morning..._please_." Trip's eyes begging.

"I'm sorry sir." The woman replied genuinely.

Liz placed her hand on Trip's shoulder. "You can leave the note you wrote and he'll know you'll be back for him in a few weeks. Come on Trip, let's go."

The woman's head suddenly snapped up. "You're Trip? Mister DeLaney's brother?"

"Um...yeah. Why?"

"He's been asking where you are. We didn't know how to contact you."

"You can't really contact me. No place to contact me at."

"Hold on. Let me go talk to the doctor. Hold on." The woman hurried off. A moment later she returned. "The doctor will allow you to see him for a few minutes, under supervision. Just be aware that if Mister DeLaney becomes agitated or violent in any way, you'll be asked to leave."

"Ok. I understand. Thanks." Trip followed the woman to the room as a doctor and a couple of the staff took up positions just outside of the door.

Trip smiled at Mikey. "Hey kid. How you feeling?"

Mikey's face brightened when he saw Trip. "Better now. Trip, I'm sorry I got in trouble again. I don't know why I do that stuff. You mad at me? I'm sorry."

"Hey. I ain't mad at you. I know you can't help it. Looks like they been feeding you well."

"Yeah...food here is pretty good. They even let me have seconds if I want."

"That's great. Look, something I need to talk to you about, just don't get upset ok? It's really a good thing, just keep that in mind."

"Ok Trip. I'll try. What's up?"

"I'm going off world for a couple weeks and get my arm taken care of. Got a couple friends that are doctors that's gonna help me with that."

"You leaving me? No Trip! You can't leave me alone. Take me with you, can't we go together?"

"Mikey, as much as I want to, I can't. Look, you won't be alone. Remember that Admiral I got into it with in the line? Well he's kinda a friend of mine. He's gonna take care of you until I get back. It's only for a couple of weeks, but I need for you to stay with Jon. He'll take good care of you and he won't hurt you. Just stay with him, do what he tells you and stay out of trouble. Can you do that for me?"

Mikey shook his head. "He's Starfleet. Can't trust Starfleet."

"Mikey, please. You can trust him. He's gonna take good care of you til I get back. You'll have a place to stay, warm bed, hot meals and shower, plus...he's got some really good booze. Please promise me you'll stay with him."

Mikey looked down and thought for a moment. "That what you want me to do?"

"Yeah kid. That's what I want you to do. I'll be back in a couple weeks and then we'll take it from there."

"Ok Trip. You promise you're coming back."

"Promise."

"K then. I'll stay with him. Stay out of trouble. I promise."

"Ok little brother. You better stay out of trouble or I'll kick your ass when I get back."

They both laughed at that as they said their goodbyes before Trip left.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Jon had gotten a room for Phlox and Liz in the same hotel. Trip decided that he'd rather stay in the room with Phlox and Liz, and the couple couldn't help notice the coldness that Trip showed towards Jon.

Trip gave the credits he earned to Phlox, asking him to give half to Jon for Mikey to have some cash when he got out of the hospital. "You can give this to the Admiral yourself you know. He's just down the hall, hmm." Phlox's attempt to get the friends talking again was answered with a head shake.

Phlox went to Jon's room to give him the credits, with Trip's instructions to not allow Mikey to have it all at once as he would spend it too quickly. He couldn't help to ask Jon, in an attempt to get to the bottom of the dispute between the two. "What has happened Admiral? When Liz and I went in to talk to the administrator, things seemed fine between the two of you, and now..."

"I don't really want to get into it, Phlox. This thing between us...Trip just needs some time to himself. Probably might be a good idea if I don't see you off at the transport station in the morning. Look, a few things you should know before you take Trip back with you. He's been through a lot in the past few years. Give him some time and space if he needs it. He might have nightmares, don't wake him up if he does." Jon rubbed at the fading bruise on his jaw.

"Ah. I see. I'll pass that warning on to the rest of my family."

Jon shifted for a moment. "There's uh...a history of drug abuse and um, well, I'm pretty sure he's become an alcoholic. There's other things he's been through as well, bad things, but let him talk to you about that on his terms."

"Of course Admiral. We'll get the ball rolling with helping him cope."

Jon nodded. "Thanks Phlox. Tell me more about this new prosthetic you plan to give to Trip."

"I discovered it through the IME. A type that the Arcadian's created using a material that conforms and self adjusts to the body, even through changes to the body. It uses nero-sensors to function the same as the body's own natural appendage. Mister Tucker will need therapy to learn how to use and control the motor skills, but in time, he will regain the dexterity and movements as he had with his own arm and hand. The prosthetic also has stimulation nodes that will allow Mister Tucker to actually feel objects again. Mmm...why, it would be as if he never lost his arm."

"That's great. I'm sure that will be a boost to his mentality."

"Ah, yes but...if things are as bad for him as you say...he really should go through counciling to help him cope with his other mental issues?"

"Yeah...I already plan to work on that while he's on Denobula. Try to have something set up for him when he gets back. Phlox, can you try to talk to him...get an idea of what kind of psychiatric care that would be the most beneficial for him? Just do it in a way that he doesn't know he's getting an evaluation?"

"Of course, Admiral. Whatever I can do to assist."

XXX

The following day, Jon made several calls to people throughout the country that had served with him over the years and had been medically discharged, with long term and life-long injuries and psychological problems. He wanted to do his own covert investigation between what Trip had told him, and what Doctor Grahams had claimed.

He instructed the people, who were all receiving private care, to go to their local Starfleet medical facility to find out if they would be able to make an appointment. After a few days, the reports started to come in. Jon was shocked that they had all been told that their were no appointments available and advised to seek private care. When they feigned inability to pay for the private care, they were referred to the clinics.

He had also received images, taken secretly, of the conditions of some of the clinics. Jon's jaw hit the floor at some of the images. Conditions and long lines at some of the clinics were substantially worse than he had seen at the one Trip and Mikey go to. This was not a San Francisco issue...this was happening in big cities and small towns all over the country.

It made him wonder, and he put in a call to Japan. Hoshi was more than happy to be his guinea pig and enlisted the aid of the people she knew in her country. After her reports, it was becoming clear to Jon, this was a Starfleet problem _worldwide_!

Jon's anger got the better of him and he needed to take a walk. He found himself on the beach throwing stones into the water as hard and far as he could. He turned around and saw a part of the far off HQ building. "Fuck you Starfleet! Fuck you to hell!" He bellowed, now with the full understanding of the anger, frustrations and bitterness that Trip, Mikey...all of them had. He dropped down and sat on the sand, burying his head into his hands. How did he ever become part of _this_ system? How could he have been so blind? So callous?

Once Jon got his head cleared, he went back to HQ with determination. He was far from being done and made more calls, then set up a meeting with the borad.

He set up the meeting to take place after Trip returned from Denobula so that he could enlist the help of Phlox and Liz. Jon went to the hospital to talk with Trip. He decided maybe it was best to start with the small talk and ease himself into the more serious conversation, more importantly, their strained friendship.

"Hey there. Good to see you back. How are you doing?" Jon smiled at Trip glancing to his new arm.

Trip pulled the sheet up around his arm. "Ok I guess. Phlox says it's gonna take some time to learn how to use it, but I already have the basics down."

"Well, I know you...you'll have it mastered by the end of the week."

Trip gave a polite chuckle. "Yeah...doubt that, but thanks for the vote of confidence. So what you doing here anyways? Still trying to ease that guilt?"

Jon let out a hard breath. _Ok...so much for easing into this. Guess we're jumping in with both feet_. Jon thought. "Look Trip, I did some digging and found out some things that really pissed me off. I got a board meeting set up for tomorrow, and I'm hoping that you'll be there with me. These damned bureaucrats need to see an example of the kind of harm that's being inflected and hear about the affects that's being caused straight from the horse's mouth as it were."

"Oh I see. You want me to be your poster child. No go. Grab anyone from the streets. Plenty of them out there in worse shape than me. You got a meeting set up? Yeah great. And what do you think that will accomplish? Huh? While y'all doing your table talk, I'll be discharged from the hospital, back on the streets and swept under the rug again while you and the rest of the fat cats kick back in your fancy hotels drinking your expensive booze. Thanks but no thanks."

"Trip, I'm _trying_ to get things right, but I can't do it alone. Mikey has already said that he's going to stand with me and help me fight. I want you next to me as well. It's not going to happen overnight, but changes will be made. I promise that."

"Mikey? He wouldn't step foot in HQ unless it was to light the match and watch the place burn."

"Well...the proverbial match is being lit and it starts with this meeting tomorrow."

"Believe it when I see it." Trip rolled to his side to look away from Jon. Jon sighed and went to the door. A second later, Trip quickly rolled back over stunned by the voice behind him.

"Hey brother. You being a jackass again?" Mikey cheerfully asked.

"Mikey! Is that you? Shit look at you! All cleaned up, shaved...a _suit_! Damn kid you clean up good!"

"You clean up good too. Hair cut and I think this is the first time I've ever seen you without a beard. Looks like they did some dermal regeneration on your scars, you got a nice face Trip."

Trip laid on his southern accent extra thick. "Aw shucks. You just sayn' that." Trip grinned.

"Yeah...you're right, I was just being nice. You still an ugly bastard."

The two laughed and gave each other a warm embrace. "Jon here says you going to HQ with him. Did he spike your liquor or something?"

"No Trip. Look, I've checked out his proposal he plans to make, and it's not just me going to stand with him tomorrow. He's taking in a small army. Give Starfleet the kick in the ass they deserve. Be nice if you'd join us. Gonna be a hell of a fight and you really don't want to miss the show do you?"

"Yeah? And what about after tomorrow? Put our dirty clothes back on and hit the streets again?"

"Uh...look, about that...Jon offered me a job and I took it. Budgeting and accounting. It will be the first step in his proposal. He wants to take the final decision of budget cuts out of the hands of the board and put it where it belongs, into the hands of the people. I already found areas where the budget costs can be balanced that won't impact the people like us. We need to do away with the poor and the "fall between the cracks" class. That means those at the top are going to have to learn to tighten their belts a little and get a few cuts of their own."

Trip rolled his eyes. "That's gonna go over like a lead balloon. Like they're really going to do that?"

"They're going to have to. Did some number crunching and projections. If things keep going like this...unless them assholes open their eyes and get their heads out the sand to look around, in a few short years, there won't be a Starfleet anymore."

"Damn Mikey, listen to you! "Did some number crunching, projections, budget costs." You sound like some kind of math whizz or something."

Mikey looked at Trip with amusement. "I took some basic accounting courses in high school. I wanted to be an accountant and budgeting specialist."

"Y-You did? You never told me that. So why you so shit with your own money then?"

Mikey chuckled. "I'm not really. Just same as you. By the time Starfleet takes their cuts from our service and disability pay, there's nothing left. Jon already put in motion to get rid of the fee scale and regulations tax, and we're working on restoring the education funds that he slashed. I've suggested a retraining program for people like you and me who, because of their injuries, can't do the job functions of their expertise anymore. At least it's a start, but Jon's right. It won't happen overnight, it's gonna take time and patience."

Trip looked down for a moment in thought. "Shit Mikey. When did you become the big brother?"

"Breakfast this morning." He grinned widely.

The three sat together, brainstorming how to go about fixing the mess Starfleet made and Trip showing off his new arm. It was evening when the hospital discharged Trip and he grumbled that they could have at least waited until after dinner was served. Jon had a little surprise for him on that one.

As they walked down the hotel hall towards his room, Jon stopped. "Uh...Trip. Now that I think about it...maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"What? What's not a good idea?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise, but considering...maybe surprising you like this would be a mistake. My room...there's people waiting for you."

Trip eyed him suspiciously. "What people? Who?"

"People who are anxious to see you again. Friends."

The corners of Trip's mouth turned up slightly. He adjusted his clothes and smoothed out his hair. "How do I look?"

"Look good, Trip. Ready?"

Trip nodded. As they walked through the door, everyone shouted. "_SURPRISE_!"

Trip looked around the room as his eyes started to water. Phlox, Liz, Travis, Hoshi, Joseph Kelby, and Ella Hess all greeted him with big smiles.

"I-I can't believe you're all here. I figured y'all forgot about me a long time ago."

Hoshi wrapped her arms around Trip and gave him a peck on the cheek. "We never forgot about you. We're so happy to see you again."

Trip gave her a tight embrace. "Good to see you too, Hosh. I'm sorry about Mal, sorry I wasn't at the funeral. How have you been doing?"

She gave him a small smile. "Been ok. Just take it day by day. I miss him though."

"I know. We all miss him. I'm sorry, I just really don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, we're all just so happy to have you back." She gave him another tight squeeze.

The rest gathered around to give him warm hugs, pats on the back and to let him know how much they missed him and cared for him.

Trip grinned at Kelby. "Joe! Jon here tells me you made cheif engineer. Hope you're keeping that ship running top shape."

"Yes sir. Learned everything I know from the best." He grinned at Trip.

"Travis, you ever concure that advanced rock climbing on Risa?"

Travis gave a small chuckle. "Not yet. Still working on it, even though Di swears I'm going to break my neck one of these days."

"She sounds like a reasonable woman. Like to meet her sometime."

"She'd like to meet you too, sir. I've told her so many stories about you, she thinks I'm making half of them up, especially about you getting pregnant."

Trip looked at Travis stone-faced. "That never happened." They all started laughing.

As they all talked with him, asking the usual "how are you" "where have you been" questions, Trip's eyes scanned the room. He shuddered when he saw the movement of a figure coming around the corner of the kitchenette.

The group parted so that Trip could get a better look as his eyes grew wide and his breath caught. He whispered out. "T'Pol."

She stood in front of him as they looked into each others eyes for a moment. Her hair was longer, cascading over her shoulders, with small bits of grey here and there. A few small lines around her eyes, and her face slighty rounder, but in his mind, she looked exactly the way she did the last time he saw her.

Trip reached out and brought her into a tight embrace as the tears streamed down his cheecks. "Oh T'Pol. T'hy'la. I missed you so much."

"I've missed you as well." She whispered to him. "It is so good to see you. Don't you ever leave me like that again." She squeezed him tighter as if she could hold him to her, keeping him from leaving.

He pulled back to look at her and put his hand to her face. "I'm sorry I disappeared like that. Honestly, I really didn't think you cared."

She couldn't hide or suppress the shock of his comment. "Didn't care? Trip, when you left us...I lost part of myself."

Trip crinkled his brows at her. "What do you mean? Lost part of yourself?"

"That's not important right now. Come on, friends are waiting." She led him back to the group as they smiled at the pair reunited.

Throughout the party, Jon noticed several things. Trip smiled more, T'Pol never let Trip out of her sight, Trip stuck to drinking water and iced tea, even though he gave longfull looks at the alcohol, he turned it down. Mikey, not so much, and Trip ended up having to cut him off and order his "brother" to bed.

After the guests left and the promises of being at the meeting in the morning, Trip and T'Pol spent the night in his room talking. He told her everything that had happened to him, the camps, the arrests, the assults, the drugs and alcohol. The feelings of loneliness, hopelessness and despair.

She cupped his face in her hands. "My t'hy'la. I'm so sorry you went through all of this. I should have been there for you. I regret that I didn't stay in touch with you when you were first discharged, I just thought that you needed time to yourself and time to heal from your injuries. I should have known that that was the time you needed me the most."

Trip shook his head. "Not your fault really. I know Vulcans aren't very social, and I'm sure you didn't need to hear me whine about my problems when you had a war to deal with. I guess I did kind of retreat into myself, pushing everyone away. I am surprised you haven't gotten hitched by now."

T'Pol cocked a brow at him. "Hitched?"

Trip chuckled. "All these years and you still haven't learned our euphemisms. Married."

"No Trip. I didn't get married. If I ever were to marry again, there is only one that I would consider. The only one I had ever considered marrying."

Trip's head rolled up. "Koss? You would marry him again?"

"No. I never wanted to marry him in the first place. You are aware of that. I made every effort to break our parents vow arrangements, and even when I was cohurst into marrying him...there was still only one."

"T'Pol...the way things ended with us..."

"We were still affected by our daughter's death. I believe that if we had both made more of an effort to be there for one another, rather than pushing the other away as we did..."

"We can't change the past. What happened, happened. Sure, I regret pushing you away, but we can't change that. So where does that leave us?"

"It leaves us in the here and now. It leaves us to try to rebuild what we once had. It leaves us to try for a future...if that's what you want."

"I don't know, T'Pol. I'm pretty fucked up in the head right now. I don't think that's something you really want to take on."

"All I can do is try. Trip, I want to be here for you, help you get your life back together. When you were gone, I was lost. A part of me died and left a gaping hole. We can start slow, start with renewing our friendship and see what happens from there."

Trip's eyes began to water as he took hard gulps to hold the dam from breaking and let the flood waters loose. "T'Pol. I still love you." He grabbed her and held her tight, placing small kisses on her face and lips. "Yes. Yes. We will rebuild what we had. Just be patient with me, but we will get there."

She slumped into his arms. She had her t'hy'la again and now the hole in her could begin to close.

XXX

The following morning was a bussle of anger, scoffing, fist pounding and accusations around the board table. Jon threw a stack of papers into the middle of the table. "Just look at these pictures! It's atrocious! How could we possibly let our people be treated in places like this? I wouldn't take my dog to a place like this! And look at these affidavits from the personnel I received. Not a single one was able to get an appointment at Starfleet medical! What kind of shit are you people pulling here?"

"Admiral Archer." Admiral Yee began. "We have to cut budgets to ensure fleet production. You understand this, you've made your own budget cuts as well."

"Cuts that I now regret and working at restoring, with the help of my new staff member. He's found other areas that can be cut, areas that we should all heed."

"Areas? What areas do you refer to?" Admiral Richards eyed Jon.

"For one...Admiral salary. We can lower the salary by thirty percent."

All the Admirals around the table looked at him in shock before setting off in their own bellows.

"No. That won't work."

"Are you crazy? You're not cutting _my_ salary!"

"I have a wife and kids to support, I can't afford to have my salary cut!"

"My son just started collage at Yale!"

The commotion continued as Trip sat and listened. When he was done listening, he quietly spoke up. "Exactly how much does an Admiral make in a year?"

They all looked at each other. Admiral Jenkins scowled at him. "I don't think that's any of _your_ business." She huffed.

Jon looked at her, knowing that she was one of the top paid Admirals. "Starts out at one hundred sixty thousand and goes up from there, fifteen percent increase per year. _Some_ of these Admirals are close to three hundred thousand. That doesn't include bonuses, cost of living increase, per diem pay, and my personal favorite, allowance pay, which I personally never took a single credit from. Just seems wrong somehow."

Trip crinkled his brows. "Bonuses? Bonuses for what?"

"Ironically enough...cutting the budget." He glared at Admiral Petel, who signed for the medical cuts. Jon had been to Glenn Petel's large estate on several occasions, but never thought to wonder how he could afford such a large property. Now he knew how.

Mikey had been quietly sitting along the side, tapping something into the PADD in his hands. "Holy shit." He gasped out.

Jon looked over his shoulder at him. "What is it, Mikey?"

"I just crunched some numbers, with what you just said about bonuses and all...on the low end, an Admiral earns over a half million credits per year. That's almost what it costs for the materials to build one starship."

"Build one...maybe, but outfit, maintain and keep it running, you're looking at three times that much." Admiral Kowalski informed him.

"Pointless." Mikey replied. "You can all afford to take less pay. Ok, so some of you might have to sell your mansions and move into a more modest house. Some of your kids might have to go to collages that aren't ivy league, but all of you can afford to give up your luxurious life styles, get your heads out of your collective asses and be more realistic..._sirs_."

Admiral Kowalski scoffed at him. "You act like you have it so tough. You're just jealous that you never made it as far as...whatever rank you were when you decided to resign."

Trip could see Mikey's face getting red and jumped up, pulling Mikey out of the room. In the hall, he sat Mikey down in a chair. "Ok brother, just breath. Calm down. Did you take your medicine today?"

"Yeah. I took it. Trip! How? How could he say something like that? Is this what the Admirals think of us? Worthless garbage?"

"Don't think about that right now. Just keep calm." Trip was torn. He needed to go back into the room, but if he left Mikey in the hall, he knew Mikey would lose it and get himself arrested again. He looked up at the woman walking in their direction and smiled. "T'Pol. Thank God you're here."

"I apologize for my tardiness. I was delayed with crew reports on the Ganges."

"That's ok, not important. Look, Mikey is on the verge of an episode, it usually starts off with him getting upset and angry. Can you take him to Jon's office and help him calm down? I'll have Jon call Beth to let her know your coming."

She tipped her head to Trip as she led Mikey away. Trip went back into the room, whispering in Jon's ear, as Jon nodded and pulled out his communicator to call Beth.

Trip turned to the Admirals and glared at Kowalski. "Do you know why I had to take that kid out of this room? He didn't resign, he was medically discharged like I was, like thousands of us were. His ship was boarded by Romulans in the war. He witnessed most of his crew, his friends, being executed. His brother...his _real_ brother was shot in the head in front of him. He was shot too, but only by the grace of God he survived. Got a chunk of brain missing now, and seeing what happened to his brother, his shipmates, it screwed him up. He gets panic attacks and nightmares. He relives that moment over and over. Sometimes he still sees Romulans that are trying to kill him and reacts to it."

"So why doesn't he get psychological treatment?" Jenkins asked, her tone arrogant

"Hello...budget cuts! Hell half the times he can't even get the medication he needs to help him."

She rolled her eyes. "That's a sad story, but we all know the risks when we signed up."

Hoshi shook her head. "Trip, out of curiosity, what ship did Mikey and his brother serve on?"

"The George Washington."

There were a few gasps as the room fell into a deadly silence. The George Washington was surrounded by Romulans, boarded and the crew was mass executed, most of them were shot, some blown out of airlocks in groups, alive. By the time Starfleet and other allied ships arrived to assist, there was only a handful of survivors left.

"Shit! Goddamn it!" Jon bellowed out. "Trip, the Saratoga was one of the ships that responded. I remember the scene and it still huants me to this day. My God! Mikey couldn't have been more than twenty-one at the time."

"Nineteen, few months shy of twenty. And this is how Starfleet repays him for losing his brother, losing his mind? And now he finds out that while people like us are living on the streets, begging for scraps, you people are sitting back safe and cozy and living high on the hog? Mikey has projected that if the fat salaries and cost cuts keep up...there won't be a Starfleet soon. Maybe it's best to shut this place down. Maybe Rome needs to fall again. Maybe when y'all, or your children or grandchildren are in the same boat as we are in now...you can blame them too. Enjoy your champagne and caviar while you can, at this rate, it won't last long."

Jon looked at the Admirals. "And we question why recruitment is so low. It's not because of a war, it's because no one wants to join an organization that will put their bodies and lives at risk then toss them away like...like..."

"Like _garbage_!" Trip finished for him.

The rest of the meeting went on to the Admirals listening to Hoshi telling them about how she and the people she asked to help in Jon's investigation were refused an appointment with Starfleet medical. They listened to Doctor Grahams tell them how the budgets cuts causes lack of proper equipment, medications, and poor staffing, leading to improper care. Jon had also talked a few at the camps to join him, telling their stories of how they ended up on the streets and how they don't receive any pay after the cuts and taxes take hold. They also listened to Corey explain that he's had two heart attacks, that could have been prevented if only he had his medication.

Then they listened to Phlox and T'Pol as they told them how the Denobulan and Vulcan healthcare and government were structured and the benefits to their societies. It wasn't much, but a few of the Admirals started to come around that there needed to be some changes. A glimmer of hope at least.

Trip was exhausted and happy to see that Mikey had calmed down without getting into trouble, thanks to T'Pol leading him in a cleansing meditation. As Jon drove the land car, Trip looked around confused. "Jon? Why are we going to the transport station?"

"Someone coming in we need to pick up."

Trip watched the passengers getting off of the transport when he spotted her. "Mom? Mom. Momma! Oh God momma!" He ran to her and embraced her in a tight hug. "Momma! Oh my God! What are you doing here?"

"Jon called me and told me he found you. Said you went off world to get your arm fixed and made arrangements for me to come when you got back. How are you honey? I've missed you so much."

"I'm trying to get better. Got a long road ahead though. Dad? Where's daddy?"

His mother looked at him sadly. "He couldn't come. We'll talk about it at the hotel, this isn't the place for it."

"Couldn't come? Why? Tell me. Tell me now. Is daddy sick or something? I'll go back home right now if he is."

"Trip honey. When we get back to the hotel."

"No! Momma, just tell me what's wrong with daddy!"

She let out a hard breath. "Alright honey. Sit down."

Trip sat and waited to hear his mother's explanation why his father didn't come to California with her. "Honey...your daddy...he passed away two years ago. I'm sorry baby, I didn't know where to find you at to tell you. I'm sorry you have to find out this way."

Trip fought back the tears. "H-How?"

"Brain aneurysm. It happened so fast that by the time the medical transport arrived, he was gone. There was no warning, one minute we were in the living room talking, the next minute, he was with God."

"Daddy died thinking I hated him. How could I have done that to him?"

She wrapped her arms around him. "Oh honey no. Your daddy knew you loved him, he never once thought that you hated him. He knew...we both knew you had problems you needed to work out. We prayed everyday that you were safe and that you would come home, we knew you'd come home when you were ready. Daddy knew you loved him."

They sat for several long minutes, ignoring the other passengers on the transport platform as Trip let out the sobs of his grief. Trip wiped the tears from his face as he looked up. "Jon? Did you know? Why didn't you tell me?"

Trip's mother cupped his face in her hands. "I told Jon not to tell you. Thought it best you heard it from me. Don't be upset with Jon, he just did as I asked."

Trip slowly nodded. He needed time to process this and time to mourn. Back at the hotel, Trip went straight to his room, laying in bed crying over his father's death until the exhaustion of the day brought him to his sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

A couple weeks had passed and there were more meetings, arguments and harsh compromises. It was decided to cut back fleet production, finishing what was already in the yards, putting the upcoming ships on hold for now.

Jon had submitted a cut to his own salary and denying bonus pay. The pay administration looked at him like he was crazy and a few quips that he needed to be tested for drug use were thrown around.

Jon laid down a challenge to the Admirals that they themselves should go to the clinics as patients needing treatment, to get first hand experience as to the plight of those who stand in line everyday deal with.

Trip and Mikey laughed at that and suggested to the Admirals to prepare to spend the night and good luck getting in. Trip even popped off a sarcastic "see you in a month." To one of the Admirals. Jon was not amused. What did amuse and even shock Jon was that three of the Admirals took him up on his challenge.

Admiral Kowalski took a name from an ensgin he knew and got in line. After a week of lining up everyday, eating the stale donuts and drinking the horrible coffee, still not getting in, he decided to take Trip's advice of spending the night.

As soon as he left HQ, he put on the shabby street clothes and lined up. He was happy to see he was fifth in line, a guarantee that he would get in. As he sat, he started conversations with others in the line. He was shocked at the stories they had.

One was in line with a horrible cough that Kowalski recognized immediately as pneumonia. Another told him how her husband took the kids and left her when her anxiety and depression became too much for him to handle. Then another, who's boyfriend dumped him because the scars of the plasma burns and intrenal orgain damage he had sustained left him imponent. Whenever Kowalski questioned about family helping, he discovered that they didn't have family, family wasn't able to help them, or the family was in other countries or planets and they couldn't pay for the transport to get to them. It made him sick.

It had rained during the night as the group did everything they could to stay dry. Some didn't even bother to try, saying it was just part of street life.

Once the clinic opened, Doctor Grahams spotted him and immediately recognized him. Kowalski panicked thinking his cover was blown, but Grahams simply turned his head and went about his work.

After Kowalski had his exam, if it could be called that, Grahams caught up to him and secretly took him to the resturant across the street.

"So. Did you learn anything?" The Doctor challenged.

"Quite a bit actually. Too much really. God. I can't believe this is happening. How did we let it get like this?"

"Greed being the main factor, but I think there may be a bit of residual panic of a war that has affected some of the decisions made in that boardroom. You guys are still trying to build ships like you're expecting some sort of major battle."

"We're just trying to be prepared. Maybe we have gone a little overboard with production and we should slow down. I have to admit, I was against the proposal of putting a hold on the next round, but now..."

"And your experience at the clinic?" Grahams raised a brow at him.

"That was a major "what the fuck" moment! The name and records I gave? I know this ensgin. He's a diabetic and needs insulin. I didn't get any, the clinic is out. And he was also injured with a severe back injury. You know that doctor wouldn't even give me pain medicine. One good thing that came of it, I got a cut on the bottom of my foot a few weeks ago. Been bothering me ever since, but I didn't really give too much thought to it. Turns out it's infected. I told that stupid kid doctor three times I'm allergic to penicillin and he came damned close to giving me a dose. I had to slap the hypospray from his hand to stop him! And speaking of hypospray, he didn't even know how to load it properly! Christ where are these kids coming from?"

Grahams shook his head. "Volunteers. They come from all over the place, most bottom of their class padding their resumes, and I can tell you where they'll all end up. Starfleet medical or a starship."

"Fuck us all now. We got to do better screening before we let guys like that in our medical facilities. There was a guy in the line, sounded like he had pneumonia. Do you know what happened to him?"

"I examined him myself. Gave him a dose of penicillin. Don't worry, he's not allergic. Told him to go to the hospital, it's all I can do. I don't have the equipment or staff to give him the full treatment he needs."

"Will he go to the hospital?" Kowalski was genuinely concerned.

"I don't know. All I can do is hope. Most don't go to the hospital until they're knocking on death's door. Trip is a perfect example. I've treated him more than once for infections to his arm, that he wouldn't have gotten if he had a proper fitting prosthetic. Everytime I tell him to go to the hospital, he comes back at me asking if I'm going to pay for it. One time, the infection was so bad, I had to leave the clinic and take him to the hospital myself."

"You do that for all your patients?"

"No. Can't close the clinic everytime a patient needs to go to the hospital. I guess I have a soft spot for Trip. We're both from Florida and we both lost someone in the Xindi attack. Plus I remember seeing Trip in the newsfeeds during that whole Terra Prime shit, he's been chewed up and spit out by Starfleet, doubt he signed up for that, and yet somehow he worries more about the well-being of others before himself. Now that's a hell of a man there."

Kowalski looked down. "They've all been chewed up and spit out. Should never have happened."

Grahams looked at him for a moment. "How did you know that patient had pneumonia?"

Kowalski looked at him shamefully. "I'm a doctor, but obviously not a good beuracrat. Doctor Grahams...how would you like a job doing something more meaningful than at the clinic?"

Doctor Grahams leaned in. "I'm listening."

XXX

Kowalski was sitting with his elbows on his desk and his head dropped in his hands as Jon came in. "Hey Rick. What's going on? You look like hell."

"Hell is about right. Jon, I've been an idiot. How could I not see the effects these cuts were doing? How could I not see the suffering these people are going through? And God! That guy Mikey, what I said about him being jealous...how could I be so cold?"

"We've all been blinded. I have to admit I didn't see it myself. Hell, I was like you. Those people on the streets? It was their own fault they ended up there...now we both know better, it's not their fault, it's ours. Starfleet is very good at hiding these problems, keeping the darker side out of the public's eye. Hell, if it wasn't for the construction that day, I never would have been on that street, no reason for me to have ever gone that way and I wouldn't have spotted Trip. Fate was working overtime that day. Look, my eyes are open now and it sounds like yours are too. Sometimes, that's all it takes. Start with one grain of sand and before you know it, you can have an island."

"Some Buddha proverb?"

"I don't know. Something I heard once. Point is, it started with me, now I have you. Together we can get others to open their eyes."

"We got Wallace and Grant too. We've all talked and submitted cuts to our salaries, putting it into the service pay and educational funds."

"That's great! Eventually the rest will have no choice but to come around."

"Yeah...cutting our salary is one thing, but how are we going to get those people off the streets? Won't do them any good if they're still living in those camps."

"Actually, Trip has an interesting idea about that. While he's been out there, he's broken into abandoned houses, closed factories and other buildings. He says if they could be fixed up, and the people at the camps put to work to do that, they can be converted into housing for discharged Starfleet personnel to help them get back on their feet."

"But would the people at the camps be willing to do that? And what about the ones with certain physical disabilities? Would they even be able?"

Jon chuckled. "Hey. You forget...these are Starfleet officers we're talking about here. Not only will they be willing, they'd chomp at the bit to have a mission again. As for the ones with disabilities, perfect retraining opportunity."

"Jon, write up your proposal on that...we got work to do."

"Aye sir." Jon grinned.

XXX

Starfleet accepted Jon's proposal of the buildings, as a test, they purchased two closed small factories to be converted. Trip and Mikey went to the camp to get the word out that they needed hands on deck for the construction.

When they day came to start the conversion project, Jon was shocked at all the people who showed up to pitch in. He clasped Trip on the shoulder. "I think we just built an island."

"Yep. And all it took was one grain of sand."

Jon looked at him shocked. "You know that saying?"

"Jon! I was the one that told you that saying when we were on the warp five project. Don't you remember?"

"Really? That was you? Hey...where did it come from anyway?"

"I don't know. Something my daddy used to say." Trip grinned at him.

Trip, Mikey and Jon packed the last box into the moving transport, ready for moving day. Jon had decided to leave the hotel (paid for by Starfleet) and move into a three bedroom apartment, where he would roommate with Trip and Mikey.

Trip went to the transport station with his mother to see her off. "Honey, are you sure you won't come back home with me?"

"I'm sure momma. I got a lot of work to do here and still have more physical therapy with my arm, and the counciling. Besides, Mikey and Jon need me."

"Mikey can come to Miss'ip with you, there's plenty of room."

"Momma. I know what you're trying to do. I'm not gonna disappear again, I promise. You could always stay in California you know."

"What? And get ate by a shark? I'll take my chances with the gators. At least them critters I understand." She laughed as Trip gave her a big hug.

"I'll call every week. I promise. Love you momma."

"Love you too baby. You come home as soon as you can." She swiped at a tear as she got onto the transport, but she knew her boy was going to be ok now and smiled as she watch out the window at Trip waving and smiling at her.

XXX

Several months had passed and the conversion project was in full swing, gaining momentum as more people from the community volunteered to help. Trip wasn't too surprised to see his buddy Gus coming to help out.

Gus looked Trip up and down. "Well you sure look a sight better these days. Haven't seen you or the kid in the store for a while, been worried about you."

"We're both doing good. Gus, I'd like to thank you and pay you back for everything you did to help us."

"No Trip, don't pay me back, just pay it forward when you can. Tell you something, I was down and out one time myself. Some friends helped get me back on my feet and eventually a job at the store. I've made it a personal mission in my life to help others, like you and the kid, whenever I can."

"Wow. I didn't know that. Well, thanks for everything you did for us. We'll never forget it."

Gus smiled at him. "Anytime y'all want a sandwich, come see me."

Trip chuckled. "We will."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

It had been almost two years and things with Starfleet were moving along, slowly, but there was progress.

Other divisions of Starfleet around the world heard of what was going on in San Francisco with the conversion project, helping the discharged personnel that were in need with housing and followed their example.

A growing number of Admirals began voluntarily having their salaries cut and refusing bonuses, so much so that the pay scale was closely looked at and restructured. Of course there was a lot of flack and stonewalling by the most top paid Admirals, but eventually they had no choice in the matter as motions were passed by a majority vote.

Admiral salary was cut by fifteen percent, not the thirty that Jon and Mikey were looking for, but they did get the motion passed to allow only a ten percent yearly increase, being capped after five years, as well as eliminate bonus and allowance pay, ending the over induldgement and lavish lifestyles of Admirals.

With the help of Carol's father, Kowalski, and Doctor Grahams, policies were made that Starfleet medical could no longer deny anyone, reguardless of care needs, an appointment and eliminated the prioritizing policy, and that an appointment must be set within thirty days. The clinics were still necessary and had been outfitted with updated equipment, maintaining a full stock of medications, repairs to buildings, or moved to better buildings.

Following the examples of Denobulan and Vulcan systems, policy was made that all Admirals were required to have physical exams and bi-monthly check-ups performed at the clinics. Newly graduated medical doctors were required to work in the clinics for two years, before even being considered for a place in Starfleet medical or a starship, allowing the clinics to be opened twenty-four hours a day and that anyone needing care would be guaranteed of getting in. Their time in the clinics were considered as training and evaluation. Any doctor showing poor bedside treatment, or lack of proper education, was denied their application to Starfleet, ensuring that that Starfleet would get the cream of the crop.

They were still working on educational and retraining funds, but the immediate policies put in place was an improvement and would only get better in time. Discharge pay was changed as well, giving the full credits due without fees or taxes so that no one had to worry about being able to afford their basic needs.

Phlox and Liz helped in negotiations with the Arcadian in being provided with the new prosthetic and other advanced medical technology they had, doing away with the red tape and waiting lists for people in need of prosthetic and artificial organ transplants. They even negotiated for new synthetic medications to help with pain management and inflections such as diabetes and heart disease.

Starfleet had purchased several more buildings, converting them into housing and providing on-site councilors. More buildings were being considered, to be able to house even people who were not previous Starfleet officers, in the hopes of helping to unite all citizens, no matter their station in life or their profession and to help rebuild the tarnished reputation of Starfleet.

Mikey was doing much better with the combination of medication, therapy and Vulcan meditation techniques that T'Pol helped him with helping him to cope with the tragedy of his brother's death and those of his shipmates, he was having less episodes and the few he did have were mild in comparison, Trip and Jon being able to talk him down.

There was only one incident that they weren't able to talk him down, on the anniversary of the horrendous day, which a memorial was broadcast on the newsfeeds that Mikey inadvertently was watching, setting off his episode. Trip and Jon had no choice but to take Mikey to the hospital, being sure that he knew they understood and didn't blame him nor angry at him for his breakdown. He would still have a home with them when he felt better and got out of the hospital in a couple of weeks, visiting him when they were allowed.

Trip became an instructor at Starfleet Academy Engineering. His new prosthetic arm worked so well that his students, or anyone that didn't know him, never knew he had one. In fact it worked so well that sometimes he forgot he had it.

Using his pay, he made it his mission to go to the various camps, passing out food and blankets. As the time passed, he was pleased to see fewer and fewer people, being told that the people were moving into the housing as soon as they were available, and some finally had the funds to get transports back home to their families. The few that were left at the camps were waiting for a place to open up, and knew their street time was coming to an end, giving them the hope they had once lost.

Mikey had shocked Jon and Trip one day when he came home and announced that he was moving out and into his girlfriend's house. They didn't even know that Mikey had a girlfriend and was stunned when he brought her over to meet them. Julie, the very nice woman at the desk in the psychiatric hospital.

Trip called his mother at least once a week, sometimes more, and went to visit her every few months, sometimes taking Jon and Mikey with him. Everytime he went home to see his mother, he made it a point to go to the cemetery and spend a few hours alone to talk to his daddy. His concilor encouraged him to continue to do this, saying that it was a way for Trip to open up and possibly talk about things that he might not talk about with anyone else.

Trip made sure to stay in touch with his friends, visiting when he could. He had met Travis' wife, Dianne, a very nice and beautiful woman. Trip confirmed most of Travis' stories, but when the story of him being pregnant came up, Trip looked at Travis in shock. "That never happened. You must have dreamed that." He busted out laughing before confessing that it was true and telling Dianne how it happened.

Dianne laughed, rubbing her swollen belly and asked Trip if he would finish carrying the baby for her. Trip chuckled and gave a playful reply. "Once was more than enough for me."

XXX

Trip had made a decision and over dinner talked to Jon about it. "I think it's time I find my own place and move out."

"Trip, you don't have to move out. I don't mind you living here. I kind of like having you as a roommate."

"Come on Jon. I see that things with you and Carol are getting more serious. You need your space, besides, things between me and T'Pol are getting better and I'm kind of hoping that when the Ganges comes in to dock, she won't have to stay on the ship or in a hotel any more."

"Trip, I never would have minded if T'Pol spent the night...you know that."

"Yeah, I know, but I still think we both need our own space. How would it be when you marry Carol?"

"Who says I'm going to marry Carol?"

Trip cocked his head to the side and gave Jon an amused look. "I found the ring in the desk drawer when I was looking for a pen. So...when do you plan to pop the question?"

Jon shook his head chuckling. "Soon. You know we're going to Australia next month, I was going to do it then."

"Uh-huh. See. Naw, I'll only be in the way here."

"No you won't. Carol adores you and I'm sure she'll be ok having you with us. Trip, I don't want to lose my best friend again."

"You're not going to lose me. I promise I'm not disappearing again, just moving a few blocks away."

Jon was surprised. "A few blocks? Trip, it sounds like you already got a place."

"Kinda. I looked at an apartment this afternoon. The landlord said the people there are moving out next month and that it'll be ready a few weeks after they move. I can afford the rent and still have money left over to help the people left at the camps, plus the money Mikey helped invest for me, he says it's well within my budget."

Jon eyed him for a moment. "Are you sure that's what you want to do?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. It's what I need to do to feel complete again."

"Alright, but if things start getting rough, your room here will always be available."

"I know." Trip swallowed hard as his eyes watered. "Jon. I'm glad you found me that day, I probably wouldn't be around...you know...now, if things kept going the way the were."

"I didn't find you Trip, fate put us in front of each other that day, and I thank the gods, that there may be, everyday that our paths crossed again. Let's face it Trip, the universe has declared that we're stuck with each other." Jon gave his best friend, his "kid brother" a wide, loving grin.

A couple weeks later the Ganges docked and Trip took T'Pol to the apartment that he would be moving into in less than a month. The current tenants allowed the pair to look around, telling them that they had been living there for eight years and relocating because of a job promotion. They expressed how happy they'd been living there, leaving behind "good vibes" for the couple.

The wife, Jenna, pulled Trip to the side. "She's a very lovely lady. How soon do the two of you plan to start having children?"

Trip looked at her in shock as his cheeks turned pink. "Um...we're just friends."

Jenna gave him a smile and a twinkle in her eye. "Uh-huh. You do know she loves you, don't you?"

Trip looked over his shoulder at T'Pol in the other room. Was it that obvious that even a stranger could see it? "You think?"

"Absolutely."

They stood on the front steps of Jon's apartment as Trip took T'Pol's hand into his. "T'Pol, you know I care a great deal for you?"

"Of course. I care a great deal for you as well."

"Well um...I been thinking...um...I'm still a little fucked up in the head, probably will be for the rest of my life but I'm getting better and...um...well...maybe we could move our relationship up to the next level?"

She stood on her toes and planted a hard kiss on his lips. Trip pulled back and grinned at her. "Was that a yes?"

She looked at him, eyes sparkling. "Let me answer in a way that you understand. That was a hell yes!"

Trip smiled warmly at her, giving her a passionate kiss. _Thank you God and any other forces in the universe for putting all these wonderful people in my path._

**End**.

**A/N 3:** _Final words. This was an emotional one for me to write, but my heart felt that it needed to be written. Let us never forget the bravery and sacrifices of those who serve and to be more understanding and tolerant of the pain and turmoil they may go through. I want to thank all of our service men and women out there for your service. God bless you all._


End file.
